


go figure

by yamegguchi



Category: Be More Chill, Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Alternate Universe - Art School, Art AU, Christine is a good friend, M/M, Slow Burn, They are college students, aaghh this is gonna be kinda slow, also they are 18+!! michael isn't modeling as a minor, art class, bmc, boyf riends — Freeform, i don't know what other ccharacters will be in here but meremy is the main pair, i lovewriting tags, meremy, michael is chubby and insecure and i want to protect him............. he is so beautiful, multiple chapters by th way, rated teen but it's really not explicit or anythign
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-19 19:07:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11319756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yamegguchi/pseuds/yamegguchi
Summary: michael is a model at a figure drawing class. of course there's a cute boy during his shift. of course.





	1. chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> dhgfgnjf i don't know how to keep things short im sorry;; :'o

Sunlight streamed into the room through the skylight, hitting Michael square in the face. He squinted his eyes against the brightness, shifting in his seat in an effort to avoid going blind. He bumped shoulders lightly against Rich. Rich returned the touch with a sharp elbow jab in the ribs. "Watch it! Stop moving around so much," he whispered loudly. Mr. Reyes turned to look at them and shushed them. They both smiled sheepishly and mouthed 'sorry's, only to go back to pushing each other around when the bearded man's back was turned.  
  
Mr. Reyes continued his first day speech: "...and if you've never taken a figure drawing class before, you're in good hands. I'll help you the best I can, but remember! Improvement will come. Don't be too hard on yourselves. Any questions?" The group in front of him stared blankly for a moment, eyes still puffy from sleep.  
  
A girl's voice called out. "Will all of the models be nude?" Michael straightened his back and twisted to the side to see the group of artists better. The girl who asked the question had her hand in the air still, her head tilted inquisitively. His breath hitched for a moment when he saw a lanky, freckled boy next to her. He was kind of blurry in the sunlight, but from what Michael could see, he was pretty gosh darn cute. His heart flipped.  
  
"Yup," Mr. Reyes replied, smiling. "It's not that bad, relax. Some of you look a little nervous." Michael watched amusedly as a dark red blush dusted the Mystery Boy's face. His hands were balled up and stuffed into his front jean pockets, and his shoulders had crept up to his ears. Mr. Reyes clapped his hands together, startling a few tired looking people. "Alright! Let's begin. Set up your stations, students!" He swiveled to face Michael and Rich. "You guys excited? Ready for your first time modeling?"  
  
Rich scoffed, puffing himself up cockily. "Always ready, Mr. Reyes," he said, getting up off of his seat. Michael rolled his eyes, smirking at Rich's kiss-assery. Mr. Reyes looked at Michael with raised eyebrows.  
  
"You too, Mr. Mell?"  
  
Michael swallowed nervously but grinned and nodded. "Yep." He felt butterflies flapping around in his stomach, churning up his breakfast a little. He exhaled through his nose deeply and closed his eyes. _Relax, Mike. This'll be good for you. You'll regret it if you chicken out, anyway. Also, you wore contacts just for today._ When he opened his eyes, Rich was looking at him, concerned.  
  
"You good, Mell?" He leaned towards Michael, whispering. "You're not gonna puke or anything right?" Michael sighed, taking a small step away from his friend.  
  
"No, Rich, I'm fine. Totally cool. Y'see?" He beamed and put his hands in the air, trying not to show how much he was shaking. Rich smiled and nodded, reassured.  
  
Michael felt a hand slap onto his shoulder. He jumped a little, but realized it was only Mr. Reyes. "Gentlemen, we're starting. Whenever you're ready." Michael and Rich followed the older man to the center of the room. Michael felt his breath stutter a little, feeling the sun beating down on him like a harsh spotlight. _Maybe I should just pretend I'm si-_  
  
Mr. Reyes clapped again, smiling at the group of artists that were arranged in a wide arc around him. "So, ladies and gentlemen, our first models are Rich and Michael." A half-assed _"hiii"_ sounded from the class. Michael tried to subtly gauge the room, looking for the Mystery Boy that had caught his attention earlier. Mr. Reyes's voice became a dull babble in his ears as he searched.  
  
_No. No. No. Cute, but no. No._ Michael then recognized the girl who had asked the question earlier. She was listening to Mr. Reyes intently, her eyebrows drawn together with focus. His heartbeat hastened as his eyes moved past her and onto the person to her left. He almost smiled when he saw _him_. The boy's sand-colored hair fell in his eyes and, as he pushed it back, Michael thought that he had died and was being greeted by an angel. The edges of the Mystery Boy were softened by the bright sunlight, and it looked like he was glowing. Then the pale boy's eyes flickered towards Michael's for a moment, and Michael felt like he was going to die from embarrassment. He snapped his eyes away and jerked his head to the side, pretending to look at a very interesting drawing taped to the wall.  
  
"Michael," Rich whispered. Michael turned. His friend stood there naked, his robe in a small pile by his feet. _Shit._ He realized then that Mr. Reyes was looking at him expectantly as well as the entire class. _Double shit._  
  
Michael hastily disrobed while forcing a laugh out but he felt his ears burning. "Sorry, sorry!" When he shed his coverup and tossed it in a ball to the side of the room, he shot a glance in the direction of the Mystery Boy. The boy's face had turned astonishingly red and he squirmed uncomfortably. His eyes were glued on Mr. Reyes even though the instructor wasn't talking anymore.  
  
"It's alright." Mr. Reyes swept his arm around the room. "The stage is yours. Stand anywhere you'd like, but make sure everyone gets a good view of at least one of you." He shuffled to the corner of the room, leaving Michael and Rich standing in the middle of the half-circle of college students, naked, and a little unsure of what to do with themselves. Michael felt like he was going to vomit. His breathing quickened. _Everyone can see your dick,_ a voice in his head wailed. _And your belly._  
  
Rich moved first. "I'm gonna stand here, Michael. Go stand on the opposite side," he instructed, waving Michael away with his hand. Michael wrinkled his nose in annoyance but complied, his legs quivering with anxiety. "Okay, Mr. Reyes. How long should these be?"  
  
"One minute warm ups."  
  
"Alright." Rich set the timer and placed it on the floor. He moved smoothly into a pose, arching his back and flexing his arms. _He's probably loving this_ , Michael thought, slightly jealous of Rich's physique and confidence. He took in a shaky, deep gulp of air, willed his body to stop shaking so much and posed, crossing one leg in front of the other and tucking his arms behind his head. He avoided eye contact, fixating his gaze on the green tiles lining the ceiling. The sound of rushed drawing filled the room.  
  
_Beep._ The two models changed positions. Paper rustled. _Beep._  
  
Michael's breathing slowed as he got into the routine. Easy. A beep, and then move. He felt a little smidgen of pride sprout in his chest, warm and soft. _I'm actually doing this_ , he thought happily. _Go me. Go Michael. Hell yeah!_ More beeps passed.  
  
His eyes fell from the ceiling when Mr. Reyes called out, "5 minutes now, Rich!" He choked a little when he realized he was standing right in front of Mystery Boy. The boy's face was still red and his line of sight was trained downwards towards... A shrill alarm blared in Michael's head. _A CUTE BOY IS LOOKING AT MY PENIS_ , he thought, having a mini meltdown on the spot. The girl from before looked exasperated as she nudged the boy quickly, whispering something to him underneath her breath.  
  
Michael forced himself to change poses and he turned his body a little, away from the boy and his friend. The sound of blood rushing towards his face roared in his ears. _Be professional. He's just studying anatomy_ , he reasoned, desperately hoping that his face didn't betray his current emotions. He gazed downwards at his legs. _Besides, he probably thinks I'm gross. Have my legs always been so stubby? Damn, I need to moisturize._  
  
He was very, very aware that the cute boy was right there, not even five feet away from him. He didn't know if he was imagining it, but he felt eyes bearing into his skin, a relentless tingling sensation trailing up and down his body. He needed to move before he passed out.  
  
Michael strained, trying to look at Rich from the corner of his eye. Maybe he could send a telepathic message, like in the movies. He focused. _Rich. Rich. Rich. Can we trade spots? Richard. Richard Goranski._ No response. Ugh. The timer beeped. It was now or never.  
  
"Rich," Michael said. Rich looked at him over his shoulder. "Wanna switch? Spots, I mean." The other friend's face expressed his confusion and he shot a glance towards Mr. Reyes. The instructor shrugged and nodded, a silent "go ahead."  
  
As they walked past each other, Michael avoided eye contact with Rich, embarrassed. He settled into a pose, heart racing. He still thought he felt the boy's eyes sweeping over his body. _Stop imagining things._ He screwed his eyes shut. The room was quiet except for the sound of paper crinkling under charcoal sticks. Michael calmed down, reverting to his previous state of relaxation.  
  
A strange sound interrupted the peaceful silence of the room. Then a voice, high and nervous voice. "C-can I go to the bathroom?" The question hung in the air for a few moments.  
  
"Sure. Of course. You don't have to ask next time, by the way," Mr. Reyes finally answered.  
  
"Oh. Sorry."  
  
The sound of feet shuffling softly across the floor and a slight breeze that smelled of mint urged Michael to crack open his eyes, curious. A tall, skinny boy was leaving the room, hunched over slightly and with his hands in his pockets. He was walking a little funny. Michael closed his eyes again, letting out a breath through his mouth.  
  
_Beep._


	2. chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jeremy's dying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is so slow and long......... anyway a little nsfw but not really ;0 hope you enjoy!!

Jeremy did not know where the bathroom was. He wandered aimlessly through the hallway, eyes darting everywhere in search for a sign. As he rounded the corner, he collided with a young woman whose head was tilted downwards as she texted with one hand and hauled a heavy looking portfolio with the other. She shrieked loudly and dropped her phone. He jerked backwards and felt a little piece of him die inside. "Agh! Sorry, sorry!"

The girl looked irritated as she stooped down to pick up her phone. "It's okay," she answered when she stood back up. The two were close. Jeremy backed up awkwardly. His hands were in his front cardigan pockets and he pulled them together in front of his groin. The girl looked down for a moment and then back up, inspecting the tall boy's nervous face. A mischievous look danced in her eyes, wiping away the remaining shreds of annoyance in them. "Are you in the art class t'day?" she asked, tucking a strand of curly brown hair behind her ear flirtatiously.

Jeremy grew warm. He nodded quickly. "Yeah. My friend took me. Anyway, do you know where-"

The girl's smile grew wider. "I could tell. You have a little something right-" she licked her thumb and grazed her finger along Jeremy's cheek-"there." He stood frozen, eyes widening and heart racing. He didn't realize he wasn't breathing until he accidentally bumped his hands into his crotch.

"Ngh- do you know where the bathroom is?" he spluttered out. 

The girl looked disappointed. She tilted her head to the right. "Down there. There's a sign, you won't miss it." He nodded his thanks and hurried past her. "See you in class," she called out after him, her voice echoing in the empty hall. He listened as she trudged to the classroom, her portfolio banging against her leg in rhythm with her walking.

A sign in the corridor pointed towards to men's restroom. Jeremy breathed a sigh of relief as he approached. Thank god. A church choir sang in his ear, and the flickering ceiling light showered the door in heavenly light. He gripped the handle and tried to turn but- "Shit!" The door was locked. Jeremy rattled it in frustration. His cheeks were burning so hot he was sure he could cook eggs on them. "Is someone in there?"

A man's voice grunted, strained. "Yeeess..."

Jeremy felt like screaming. "Are you done? It's kind of an emergency."

This elicited an annoyed response from the man inside the restroom. "Kid, I'm... literally shitting out my... urrrghhhhh..." Disgusting, wet spurting sounds interrupted his speaking.

"Okay, okay! Sorry! I'm sorry!" Jeremy stepped away, wrinkling his nose in disgust. He realized a woman's bathroom was across the hallway. _No, don't even think about it._ Jeremy's crotch begged him to go- _no one's looking, it'll be fine_. He scoured the surrounding area. It was empty. The slightly opened door of the restroom taunted him. He sighed, regretting being born, and slipped quickly into the room, turning on the lights and locking the door before he could change his mind.

He looked at himself in the mirror. His face looked like it had been splashed with red dye. And the girl was right, there was a dark line charcoal marking his cheek. Whatever. He got even more flustered seeing himself and flipped the toilet seat down to sit on. His legs were shaking as he fumbled with his jean zipper and pulled his pants down past his knees. God, the mirror right in front of him really wasn't making this easy. He could see his bottom half reflected in the surface; his body, from the hip down, was a lewd painting, framed by the silver edges of the mirror. A ball of shame was knotted in his stomach. It was forgotten when he became aware of his predicament again.

His thumbs were hooked behind the elastic band of his underwear when the voice of reason (which also sometimes fronted as his Anxiety) in his mind began to yell over the pleading cries of his dick. _Are you really going to do this in public? That's gross! God, Jeremy, can't you control yourself? Getting turned on by a nude model?_ He was hesitant. He argued with himself. _I mean, it's kinda hot. No. I shouldn't. It /is/ kinda hot, but I shouldn't._ He exhaled in defeat and zipped himself back up. _Just... think about... Dad or something._ The bare hairy legs of his father flashed in his mind. Jeremy waited.

 

When he was back in the classroom, the class was on a short break. Christine was perched on a tall stool, crushing a water bottle in her hand as she chugged it. Jeremy smiled adoringly. She was so cute. "Christine!" he jogged over. "Sorry I left you, I really had to pee."

Christine looked at him, and from her frown, Jeremy knew she knew about his boner, and he also knew that she was absolutely done with him. "You really had to pee, huh? Don't even think about lying to me, Jeremy Heere." She stuck her tongue out at him in mock disgust. "Whatever. Have some water, you thirsty ass." An almost empty water bottle was thrusted into his chest. He gripped it, opening his mouth to say thank you, but was cut off promptly. "So, wanna see my drawings? They're not _that_ good, but I'm really proud of some! This is suuuper fun, don't you think?" The short girl rambled on excitedly, tugging her newsprint pad onto her lap. She was almost totally eclipsed by it.

Jeremy looked over Christine's shoulder as she flipped through the many sheets. "Oh, this one! I reeeeally like this one. Hm. But I don't think this one's as good. But it's not too bad. But I don't like it..." She shook her head and turned the page. Her voice's volume was cranked all the way up to 100 and hurt Jeremy's ears, but he didn't have the heart to tell her to be a little quieter. "Oh! Oh! What do you think about this one? It's my favorite." He leaned closer, squinting.

"Woah. That's really good! You're talented," he mused, admiring the gesture drawing that his friend was pointing at eagerly. It wasn't perfect, but it was pretty good. She turned her head and smiled in his face, swinging her legs lightly.

"Aww, really? That's so nice! Can I see yours?" Christine closed her drawing pad and slid off of her seat, smoothing down her dress afterwards. 

Jeremy stuttered. "Oh, I dunno... I'm not a good artist..."

Christine's face fell. "Aw.... okay. I'm sure you're not as bad as you say, though." She patted his arm, still looking depressed.

The eager to please boy couldn't handle her expression. "Gahh, fine, I'll show you. But don't laugh!" Jeremy took the newsprint pad off of the easel and reluctantly opened it to the first page.

"I would _never_!" 

The pages filled with jagged lines Christine assumed were supposed to be bodies. Jeremy felt his ears begin to burn as he flipped through. The F-Bomb was written in large, bold letters at the top of most of the pages. As they continued through the few pages Jeremy had filled, his will to live shrunk. He was definitely not an artist."What's up with all these legs?" The last two pages were collections of messy and unproportional leg drawings, mainly thighs. And smudged dicks. The cute model's legs had been a subject of marked interest earlier. "My God, Jeremy!" Christine shoved Jeremy playfully with a giggle escaping her mouth. He snapped the pad shut and whirled away, embarrassed.

"I told you not to laugh! I can't draw," he whined.

"Noooo! I'm sorry! I really am!" She threw her arms around his torso, smushing her beaming face against his side. "I didn't mean to!" she cried out, her voice muffled in Jeremy's cardigan.

"It's okay, Christine," he laughed, pulling her off of him. 

Mr. Reyes's voice rang clear over the buzz of the students. "Class! Everyone! Back to work. We're going to go for a 20 minute pose now." The two friends sauntered back to their easels, propping their pads back up. Jeremy opened to a fresh page, stealing a glance around the room to look for the model that had... piqued his interest earlier. His heart was caught in his throat and his pulse fluttered violently when he saw him edging his way past the artists into the semi circle. A pang of jealousy stabbed at him when he saw the other male's hand rest on a peer's waist for a brief moment as he squeezed past them. Jeremy looked away, scolding himself for being so irrational.

The pose began and Jeremy drew some feathered lines on his page. The model had burn scars streaking his skin, which Jeremy tried to emulate on his sheet. "No details yet," Mr. Reyes suddenly said from beside him. "Don't start adding details to Mr. Rich here yet until you have a good base down. Focus on the big shapes first." Jeremy swallowed and nodded, feeling sweat beading on his upper lip. He tried to block in shapes, twisting his mouth in frustration. He was concentrating hard on Rich, the model in front of him. Wait, no. No, he wasn't. He had caught a glimpse of the cute model- or the cuter model, at least- over Rich's shoulder the and now he couldn't look away. He licked his dry lips, squeezing the charcoal in his hand. The gentle curve of the model's back into his behind was _so_ cute. 

"A lot of you are doing the same thing. Remember to focus on on the big shapes first, everyone!"

Jeremy's eyes lingered on the cute model's rear. Oh, he was definitely focusing on the big shapes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i took so long to write this hgfmghr ahghg also dry eye buddies unite

Michael shrugged on his hoodie and zipped it up completely, watching the class swarming through the room as they admired everyone's work. He was also looking for the cute boy who had looked at his penis for too long. Rich propped his elbow on Michael's shoulder, interrupting his search. "Good job today, man!" He was still shirtless but had thrown on some dirty sweatpants reluctantly earlier. "What'd ya think? You like it? I know I did."

"Of course you liked it. You got to be naked in front of a bunch of girls."

Rich pulled back and smacked a hand onto his own chest. "Whaaaat? I appreciate art. Geez, Mikey, I'm not an animal! I didn't just do this for the girls." He leaned in to his friend, a grin stretched across his face. His voice dropped into a secretive hush. "Did it for the boys too. I think one liked what he saw," he whispered excitedly. He looked over Michael's shoulder and flashed a quick wink paired with awkward finger guns at someone. Michael snorted and craned his neck to see who Rich had just "flirted" with, but there were too many people in that direction to be sure.

"What did you just do?" he cackled. Rich looked proud.

"Standard Richard Goranski procedure. Frequent eye contact, show 'em you're interested-" The stocky boy repeated his wink and finger gun combo- "BAM! Guaranteed smash!" he finished, slamming a fist into an open palm for emphasis. Michael felt his brain cells dying by the billions and he rolled his eyes. Rich's voice was serious. "Michael, it's not a joke. I bet you he's gonna wait for me in the parking lot after we leave, lusting after me like I'm a bone and he's the dog. Like I'm milk and he's a cat. Like-"

"Milk makes cats sick," Michael said, smirking. He swiveled around when Mr. Reyes did his signature hand clap to get everybody's attention. Rich grumbled something indiscernible and pinched Michael's arm through the thick cotton of his sweatshirt. "Ow! What the hell, dude?" Mr. Reyes cast a disappointed look upon Michael from the corner of his eye. The boy held his hands up in apology. _I hate you, Rich._

"Well, everyone, good work today. I hope you all leave today's class a little better than you were this morning." Michael's line of vision danced across the group of artists. A familiar shade of blue caught his eye and he found his target: a tall, pale boy with wavy hair that he itched to touch. His breathing stopped momentarily when the other boy's eyes locked with his for half a second. He looked away, pulse speeding up drastically. "Of course you are not obligated to sign up for paid weekly classes, but please consider it. We hold a free figure drawing session on the first Saturday of every other month so if you don't sign up, you're still welcome to those." Michael couldn't control himself- just one more peek wouldn't hurt, right? He stole another look at the boy, who had decided now would be a good time to sneak a glance at Michael, too. Color bloomed on Michael's face as his eyes snapped away from the pair of blue-gray eyes.  _Ohmygodohmygodohmygod_. "If any of you are interested in signing up, please see me. Have a good day!" And with this, the class was dismissed. The Mystery Boy began to pack his stuff.

Michael followed Rich to their backpacks that sat, slumped on one another, in the corner of the room. "Rich! Rich!" he whispered desperately. Rich looked at him, still offended from the milk comment. "I'm sorry for saying that milk makes cats sick before, but I need your help." No response. Michael sighed. "I'll do the dishes for a week." His friend stared at him, squinting his eyes as he weighed his options. Then his face lightened and he smacked Michael on the arm.

"Alright, buddy. Since I'm so kind, I guess I'll hear you out. What is it?"

Michael's face was already hot as he tried to force the question out of his mouth. "I... I... Will you ask that guy over there for his number? The one in the blue?" He jabbed a thumb into the cute boy's direction.

"Why? I don't want his number."

"Not for  _you_ , you idiot. For me."

Rich waggled his eyebrows at Michael. "Ooooh! Aight, I'll be your wingman. No worries." He slid past Michael. Michael did not dare to turn around. He pretended to check a text on his phone, mouth suddenly dry. He hummed to drown out the sound of Rich asking for the cute boy's number. Before he knew it, Rich was back, waving his hand in front of his face. Black numbers were staining his skin. "Holy shit. You're the best, Rich," Michael breathed, grasping his wrist and staring at the digits.

Rich puffed his chest out at this comment. "Hell yeah, I am! Anyway, he's, like, totally into you. He thinks you're cute." He smirked. Michael's face broke into a big smile, his round cheeks bunching up. He felt glee soaring through his veins.  _A cute guy! Likes! Me!_ He turned around shyly to look at the cute boy and-

A completely unfamiliar boy in a teal tee was grinning at him, shooting him a poorly executed wink. He made his hand look like a phone and wiggled it by his ear before leaving the room. The cute boy that Michael had wanted the number of was off to the side, standing by as his friend ( _Friend? Girlfriend?_  Michael wondered) spoke with Mr. Reyes. Dread flooded Michael's body. He whirled back towards Rich, who was still smirking and inflated like a pompous balloon figure. "That. Is. Not. Him."

"What? You said blue shirt!" Rich retorted, frowning.

"Jesus Christ, I..." Michael smushed his hands onto his soft face, glaring at the frowning boy through his fingers. "That's not even blue. It's a green shirt."

"No! It's blue, you asshat."

"That is  _green_ ," Michael insisted. He felt like crying.  _Why are you crying? Don't do this_. He grabbed Rich and pulled him close. " _That_ is the guy I was talking about." He motioned towards the Mystery Boy.

Rich pouted. "That's a gray cardigan."

"IT'S BLUE!" Michael cried. His voice boomed in the classroom, ricketing back and forth between the walls. The remaining people in the classroom all looked at him strangely, including the cute boy and his friend. His face heated up for the hundredth time that day. He let go of his friend and picked up his backpack, ashamed.  He headed for the exit, and Rich followed, a laugh forming on his lips. "G'bye, Mr. Reyes," he grumbled as he walked by.

"Goodbye, Michael, Rich. Have a nice week." He continued talking as Michael made his way out. "Okay, Christine, just go on the website and fill out the form and I will see you next week. Are you signing up, too, young man?"

Michael's ears perked up. He slowed his pace, one foot out the door already. He hoped no one noticed. Rich almost bumped into him.

"No," a meek voice replied. Michael frowned, his heart falling.  _Whoop, there it goes. You'll never see that one again_.

"Move," Rich whined, pushing him forward.

 

To Michael's surprise, a guy  _was_ waiting for Rich at the front of the school before the parking lot. Tall, handsome, and _smoking hot_. "Hey," he greeted with a crooked smile. Michael stared at Rich, bewildered, his mouth dropping open. No way this was happening. Rich sneered at him and went up to the hot guy, giggling like a school girl.

"Hey!" He shot a satisfied look back at Michael. "I'll see you back in our room, Mike. Don't wait up!"

The pair went off across the parking lot, giggling as they did. 

Michael sat down on a nearby bench. Everything seemed so surreal. Did he really just stand naked in front of a bunch of people? For 4 hours? He smiled to himself. _Go you, Michael! You did it! And you're fine. See, I told you it was for the best._ He checked the time: 1:00 PM. He didn't want to go home yet. He slipped on his headphones and plugged them into his phone. Reggae music began to pulse in his ears. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, sticking his legs and arms out to stretch. The hot afternoon sun shone down on him.

Something bumped against his legs and fell over them. Michael's eyes shot open. An embarrassed boy stood, looking disoriented, near him. "Sorrysorrysorrysorry," he mumbled frantically, eyes growing large as he made eye contact with Michael. Michael began to flush himself and he felt his own eyes widen as he stared into the face of _the_ cute boy. His voice was stuck in his throat and his lips parted as he struggled to reply. He saw the short girl standing behind the Mystery Boy. She was smirking mischievously. 

 _Say something. Say something! For the love of GOD, please say something!_  "It's okay! No problem! All good!" he choked out, a strange, crooked smile appearing on his face. His heart was hammering in his chest. _Act_ _casual! Ask for his name! Do something before he's gone FOREVER, dumbass!_ Michael realized it had been a little while and now the two boys were just awkwardly looking at each other in absolute silence, save for the lawnmower buzzing in the distance. He tried to salvage the conversation, if you could even call it that. "So, uh..." His eyes were burning. His mind was swarming. He had absolutely no idea how to do this. Rich's voice whispered in his ear. 

 _Standard Richard Goranski procedure._   Michael cleared his throat and threw an arm behind the back of the bench, looking up at the Mystery Boy coolly. The boy stared at him.

"So, you were in that drawing class, right?" he tried, attempting to put on a flirty face. God, his eyes burned. Maybe there was something in them?. He tried to slip in a subtle wink. Both of his eyes shut, and this triggered a feverish blinking fit as tears began to well. He blinked aggressively, catching glimpses of the Mystery Boy looking concerned in between blinks. His eyes watered, and he felt a tear squeeze past his shut lids and roll along his nose. He tried to wipe it away casually with his sleeve, hoping it would go unnoticed, but it was too late. "What'd you think about it? Did you-"

"Oh my god, are you crying?" As Michael cracked his eyes open, he saw a figure close in on him. It was the girl. She was a liquidy blob, all bright colors and wiggly shapes, as he looked at her through a film of tears. "Are you crying? Oh my god, you are! Are you okay?" His cheeks were aflame.

"I'm fine, really-"

"You don't have to hide it, it's okay! Do you need a tissue? Are you okay? Do you need a tissue? Jeremy, give me a tissue!"  _Jeremy_. The name echoed in Michael's ears.

"I don't need- I'm not crying...! My eyes are just-"

"Shhh," the girl hushed, pressing a tissue into Michael's hand. "We completely understand. It's okay." 

The Mystery Boy spoke up. "Christine, back off of him a little."

"Jeremy, he's  _crying_!"

"Give him some space!"

"If you were crying, I'd do the same to you!"

"I'm fine!" Michael's voice was overshadowed by the argument.

"H-he- you don't know this guy! He probably thinks you're a creep!"

The teary-eyed boy had never before felt more like crawling underneath the bench and then sinking into the ground, all the way down to the Earth's core, where he could melt away painfully and forget all about this. Standard Richard Goranski procedure had failed him very badly.

 


End file.
